Til Its Gone
by Infusiion
Summary: You don't know what you've got, 'til its gone'. In the wake of a tragic accident, House faces his feelings for Cameron. FIRST EVER HOUSE FIC. as you can probably tell...
1. An Awakening Of Sorts

**DISCLAIMER: yes, it is I, the genius who created these characters! …. Not really.**

**NOTE: I don't know a thing about hospitals or pagers, so excuse my ignorance.**

**SPOILERS: 'Role Model', which is where I got the quotes from in the first part. I was writing from memory, too, so if they're not exact, that's why. Maybe some spoilers for 'Kids', as well.**

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"I'm leaving"

Dr Greg House froze, his eyes fixed on the young woman on the opposite side of his living room.

"Why?" he shot back before he allowed her words to sink in.

Dr Cameron dropped her gaze to the floor, fishing for an answer. Before she could find one, House was closing the gap between them, leaning heavily on his cane.

"Is this another noble, self sacrificing gesture? You protecting Foreman?" he was face-to-face with her now. "Or is it just 'don't fire me, I quit'?" He allowed his eyes to wander over her petite features, feeling particularly drawn to her large blue-grey eyes, strengthened by the blue sweater she was wearing. Her reply caught him a little off-guard.

"I'm protecting myself." House waited for her to elaborate, which she did. "You asked me why I like you," Cameron's voice was barely above a whisper, and a small smile of amusement played on her mouth. Her voice gained strength as she continued. "You're abrasive and rude, but I figured everything you do, you do it to help people. But I was wrong. You do it because it's right" she held a small, slender hand out to him, as a kind of peace gesture. House glanced at it, then looked away

Why is she doing this? Of all the thoughts racing through his head, this one stood out the most. He couldn't bring himself to take her hand, instead focusing on a discarded TV guide a few feet away.

_What, you can't even shake her hand?_ That little voice he often chose to ignore was incredulous. _She's leaving your life forever and you're either too stubborn or afraid to give her ONE handshake? She's baring her soul and you can't even offer her your HAND?_ Out the corner of his eye House saw her arm drop back to her side. _Too late._

Cameron was speaking again, the hurt clear in her voice. "There are only two ways I can deal with things. One is in my control, and that's to leave." Her voice was hushed in an attempt to keep it even. "Goodbye House." And with that, she was gone.

House remained rooted to the spot, his head still bowed. He had lost interest in the TV guide a long time ago. Part of him wanted to (figuratively) run after her, take BOTH her hands and persuade her not to leave, but he had long since buried that part of him.

His home was suddenly too quiet, too lonely. The warmth that Cameron brought to it was gone, leaving only coldness in its wake. Even that annoying voice in his head had silenced. Probably refusing to speak with him.

Although it was still quite early, House was exhausted. He made his way to his bedroom, fully aware that, despite his weariness, sleep would not come easily.

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He had just dozed off when his pager pierced through the empty silence. "If this is Cuddy's idea of a joke…" he grumbled menacingly as he switched the lamp on.

'Get your ass here. Urgent' the pager read.

Whatever it is, it can wait. If it were really serious, she would have called, he convinced himself. As he was switching the lamp off, the phone rang. He let the machine get it. Unsurprisingly, Cuddy's voice sounded through the hall from the living room.

"House! I know you can hear me!" There was urgency in her voice that sent a trickle of dread crawling down his spine. "Listen, you have to get down here. It's Cameron." The message ended. The trickle became a wave of chills pouring down his back, and his heart was thumping in his ears.

House was out of bed and pulling on clothes before his leg had a chance to complain. When it did, he fished around for some Vicodin while grabbing his keys. He usually had no trouble dry swallowing the pills, but his throat wasn't working, so he made a detour and gulped some water from the kitchen before heading out the door as fast as he could manage.

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Cuddy was waiting for him at the hospital's entrance. House skipped the formalities. "Where is she?"

"In the OR. She had a car accident" Cuddy grabbed House's arm as he moved away. "House," He turned to the administrator and his heart sank.

"They couldn't save her."

All colour drained from his face, and he was bathed in a cold, clammy sweat. It couldn't be, no, not Cameron.

"I wanna see her." His voice sounded distant, and alien. He was numb. Cuddy nodded and led the way to the operating room. They must have made a mistake he thought, but without conviction. He entered the silent room, and Cuddy waited outside.

But as he approached the table, there was no mistake. There, on the table, was Allison Cameron. Reality hit him like a ton of bricks.

Apart from the large purplish bruise on her temple, she could have been sleeping. But the warmth that one felt when in her presence was gone. Her delicate, angelic features were cold and frozen, like that of a porcelain doll. Her soulful blue-grey eyes were trapped behind closed lids. Cuddy walked in quietly, and stood behind House. He didn't acknowledge her presence.

"She collided with an SUV. They tried, but it was a brain haemorrhage that killed her. They couldn't do anything." When House remained silent, she turned and left.

Not three hours ago Cameron had been standing in his living room, radiant and full of life. Now she was lying on a table, pale and lifeless. Had she known how final her goodbye really was? Is this what the little voice meant?

House could see her driving home with tears coursing down her cheeks, raising her hand to wipe them away, and realising as a car horn sounded that she couldn't stop in time. He could see the expression of pure shock and terror carved onto her innocent face, and her eyes screw shut as she waited for the inevitable. Did her life flash before her eyes? Did she have any regrets? Did she think of him?

A lump rose in his throat as he stroked her soft cheek, the reached down to take her hand. "I'm sorry" he choked.

It was cruel that she should be taken, her life ended so abruptly. He couldn't help but feel responsible. Right now he would give anything to see her alive again, even for a minute.

He had always denied his feelings, and hers. He turned one of her flaws into an excuse for her feelings, and let his flaws get in the way of his own. His brains told him it was inappropriate, she was too young, they work together, and that he was unsuitable for her. He let his head rule over his heart, and now she was dead. He would never see her alive again, never hear her laugh, see her smile, smell her hair, or feel her heart beat against his.

He closed his eyes and lay his head on her chest, getting one last feel of her before her body was taken away too.

Suddenly a hand gripped his leg, and blue-grey eyes stared into his own.

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House sat up in bed, drenched with sweat, breathing deeply in an attempt to silence the drumming in his ears that was his racing heart. His knees were weak, and pain flared in his thigh. He reached for some Vicodin. A dream, it was all a dream.

However, his relief was short-lived when he remembered that Cameron had quit the previous night. She may not be dead, but she was gone. He got up to prepare for work. Things just wouldn't be the same without her.

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A week later the dream was still fresh in his head. He made up his mind – he needed her. Maybe she needed him, who knows. But he needed her. While she was gone something was missing, and it wasn't just her skills as a doctor. Did he care for her? It would seem that way. Did he love her? Time would tell. Things will be difficult for him, but he'll manage. He had unresolved issues that would need his attention, but without question – he was going to get her back. He wanted her back.

And so he found himself rapping on her apartment door with his cane the next morning. When she answered, his face softened. He looked into her eyes, and he felt a surge of confidence and hope for the future. And he made his decision. She was coming back.

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_A/N so... tell me what you think! its my first fan fic so be gentle. you might have read before that i was asking for some opinions about adding some more chapters, sorry but i've gone ahead and written them! i'm typing them up we speak. expect an update REAL soon. but if there's a little arrow-button thing at the bottom right of your screen, click it! CLICK IT NOW! im trying to write the story and then post it so you dont have to wait, but i havent quite finished the last chapters. enjoy._


	2. Duty Calls

**Hey everyone, thanks for your reviews. I decided to continue the story, because I came up with some more ideas. Yeah, its very dramatic, but I love that… I breathe drama…. I need drama. I can't act or anything, but I lurves drama. And tragedy, you'll probably find that most or all of my stories have something tragic happen in them. Oh well, speaking of which, on with the show!**

**DISCLAIMER: nope, not mine. Never were, never will be…… sobs**

**SPOILERS: "Kids".**

**WARNINGS: none, it's a pretty clean chapter.**

**NOTE: I don't know anything about hospitals, clinic duty (besides the fact that it's obviously very frustrating and boring), or epidemics. So again, excuse my ignorance.**

**a cuddy/ house encounter thrown in for good measure.sorry its a short chapter, but i couldnt fit it anywhere else.**

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House had expected some kind of hostility towards him from Cameron, so it hadn't come as a huge surprise that she slammed the door in his face when he didn't come up with a good enough reason for wanting her back. What was he supposed to say? "I know I've been a jerk and everything, but in my own screwed up way I care about you and I don't just want you back, but I need you back, only you had to die for me to figure that out"? What a mouthful. He felt breathless just _thinking_ about saying it. However, he wasn't put off in the least. Nope, he was going to convince her to come back, or his name wasn't Gregory House. 

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The case had been a tough one. Well, they usually were, he liked it that way. But trying to diagnose the patient with 800 potentially infected people and a mad Cuddy running around was the toughest part. But then, telling a twelve-year-old girl that her pregnancy was the source of her illness wasn't easy either. He managed though, and the case was solved, restoring his peace of mind. Oh wait - he had none.

The last of the mishap that came attached to an epidemic was being cleaned and stored away when Dr House was making his way out the doors. A dishevelled Cuddy cut him off five feet from his destination, much to his disappointment.

"There you are. I need you to do some extra clinic duty."

House raised his eyebrows in his trademark 'so what?' expression. "yah, what else is new?"

Cuddy gave him an exasperated sigh and threw her hands onto her hips. "Come on, House. I'm tired, and with all the epidemic business going on, there hasn't been any time or room for the other sick people. You know – the ones you get paid to help? I hate to stoop to your level, but I'm at the end of my tether, and I'm afraid that if you don't give me at least an hour and a half of clinic duty, I'm gonna have to steal your cane."

House threw his head back and stared at the ceiling in mock concentration before letting out a heavily exaggerated sigh. "Fine. But no clinic duty tomorrow." He had planned on paying Cameron another visit, but that could wait until afterwards. Besides, Cuddy DID look like she was on the verge of a mental breakdown, so he didn't want to annoy her any more. He froze. Did I just think that? My, aren't I feeling generous this afternoon. Or maybe I don't want her crying all over me. Yeah, that must be it, he thought to himself.

Cuddy stared at him with her mouth slightly open. "W-what?"

House smirked. This was almost as amusing as arguing with her. He leaned forwards. "That means yes," he whispered, before triumphantly limping towards the clinic. Cuddy stopped him.

"That's IT? No arguing or complaining? And you're settling for _one_ day off? You're not even going to yell 'fire' and make a run for it?" or try, at least, she thought to herself with an inward grin.

House's triumphant smirk spread. Oh yeah, that confused look is definitely worth it. Damn, where's my camera. "Nope." He answered. "Now, do you mind? I've got patients to see." And with that, he limped away. Cuddy stayed staring after him. "I'm dreaming," she said, shaking her head. She gave her arm a little pinch and waited to wake up. When she didn't, she gave a defeated sigh and headed out to her car.

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_hope you're enjoying it - stay tuned... ive written the next two chapters, i'm just typing them up...like, now._


	3. Discovery

**a slighty longer chapter.**

**DISCLAIMER: i didn't create these characters, i merely borrowed them and manipulated them into my own stories for my own personal benefit.**

**SPOILERS: a leeedle one for 'Role Model"**

**WARNINGS: a smidgeon of gore in this chapter, with a hint of violence.**

**NOTE: i dont know anything about ambulances or first aid. however, the beetroot thing mentioned at the beginning of the chapter was based on my little brother.**

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House wasn't feeling nearly as triumphant or generous _after_ the clinic, however. Hypochondriacs had flocked to it like parrots, complaining of non-existent symptoms that they thought were related to the epidemic the hospital had dealt with the last few days. There was one exception, but for House, telling a mother that the 'blood' in her son's stool was in fact beetroot didn't quite make up for it. 

The whole frustrating ordeal that was clinic duty had lasted a lot longer than one and a half hours. Four hours, actually. So it was dark by the time House finally made it out to his car. He wondered whether or not to go to Cameron's, but in the end he figured he might as well, just in case she was planning on applying somewhere else in the morning.

Driving to her apartment, he reflected on his afternoon's discussion with Cuddy. What _had _come over him? If Cameron had this sort of effect on him, maybe he should back away before he really started caring about other people's feelings. It was like his exchange with Wilson the other week:

"_Dr Cameron's getting to you. Well, I guess you can't be around that much 'niceness' and not get any on you."_ Wilson had said to him.

House had turned the spotlight to the oncologist. _"Is that why you haven't put the moves on her?"_

But Wilson was just as quick. _"What makes you think I HAVEN'T put the moves on her?"_

House had stopped dead in his tracks, staring at Wilson. Of course, it was a joke, but the idea of Wilson… corrupting Cameron with his womanising ways grinded him. He did not like the thought of any one else having her. Sure, it was the kind of possessiveness typical of children, but House didn't care.

Unfortunately, Wilson had noticed House's face at his last remark. And being the terribly observant idiot that he is, he had thought he was onto something. Well, he was. House just didn't know it at the time.

He parked and got out of his car. Heaving a deep sigh as he approached Cameron's apartment, the breath caught in his throat.

Her door was ajar, exposing the dark living room beyond. He carefully limped closer, and pushed the door open with a creak. The place was in total darkness, save the moonlight that filtered in through the windows, casting an eerie glow. Something wasn't right - he felt it. Suddenly he heard a faint noise coming from what looked like the kitchen. As he turned the corner, the sight that floated up to meet him sent a jolt through his spine.

Cameron lay slumped against the kitchen cupboards, her legsstretched out in front, and her arms limp at her sides. In the moonlight House could see dark stains down her front. Blood.

House's cane fell to the floor with a clatter he didn't hear, and he lunged to her side, causing his leg to cry with pain he didn't feel. Her usually pale face practically glowed in the semi-darkness, and her eyes were closed. He put his hand to her neck, afraid of what he might find – or what he might _not_ find. Bittersweet relief swamped him as he felt a tiny flutter beneath his fingertips. He twisted to reach his coat pocket, still ignoring the screams from his thigh, and dialled 911 on his cell phone, giving them Cameron's address urging them to hurry. When he hung up he became painfully aware that he was kneeling in her blood.

He gently laid her down, using his bundled-up coat to support her head, and lifted her shirt. In the pale light he saw at least two wounds on her stomach, slowly oozing blood. Temporarily abandoning all personal attachments, he set to work trying to help. He pulled the shirt away, and reached into a drawer. Pulling out the first cloth he could find, he shook it out and gently pressed it to her stomach. Removing his own shirt, he wrapped that around her abdomen, applying pressure.

Was he dreaming again? Or was she being taken from him for real this time, slowly and painfully? Surely he wasn't that bad a person? Why should she be tortured so, for something he did?

The wait was agonising as he sat by her, checking regularly for a pulse, and keeping constant pressure on her wounds to reduce the bleeding. She had lost a dangerous amount of blood.

It took about four minutes for the ambulance to arrive, and by that time House could feel his shirt becoming damp under his palms. He was about to scream in helpless frustration when the paramedics rushed in, taking control of the situation. House backed out of the way, almost tripping over an object on the floor. He looked down. Glinting in the moonlight was a knife.

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The ride to the hospital was a blur of light and colour. In the uncomfortably bright ambulance Cameron was assessed and aided further. She had to be revived twice. House felt his own heart stop with hers, and the blood rush to his head when it was awoken again.

Looking outside the lights whipped past and made him dizzy, looking inside, the young woman's desperate struggle to hold on to life made him nauseous.

In the end he hung his head in his hands.

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_please review!_


	4. The Victim Has A Name

**DISCLAIMER: having to repeat this is depressing. i dont own any of the characters, except i did create detectives Jenny Morris and Rob Leonard. original, i know. what an imagination i have! hehe.**

**WARNINGS: none**

**SPOILERS: none**

**NOTE: i dont know anything about hospitals, or the american police force (living in australia might have something to do with that), so if i've made a boo-boo on their procedure, or if they arent actually called detectives or something, excuse my ignorance.**

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Cameron was taken straight into surgery. House sat in the waiting room leaning his forehead against his cane, and pleaded with God. He didn't usually bother with that sort of thing, (Chase was the good little Catholic boy)and he was pretty neutral on the whole 'God' subject, but he didn't know who else to turn to. For the first time in years, Gregory House felt completely powerless. 

He pleaded for Cameron's life. He willed her to hold on just a little longer. He wanted more than anything to be able to give her strength, and to hold her hand through this. He prayed that she would wake up with nothing to show for this ordeal but a few scars.

But he also pleaded for himself. He apologised for all the stupid things he had said and done, and for all the stupid things he will say and do in the future. He pleaded for the strength to see him through this, with nothing to show for it but Cameron's scars. He prayed that he could get another chance with her, to get to know her, to touch her, or hold her. He prayed that his dream would not become reality.

He had a theory for why people wait in waiting rooms. He said that people thought if they waited long enough, others would think that they cared. But this was different. House _did_ care. He cared so much it scared him.

He lost track of time. He propped his elbow on the armrest and supported his head on his palm. He heard footsteps approach in the otherwise deserted waiting room.

"Excuse me, sir, are you Mr House?" a woman asked.

"_Dr_ House," he corrected as he stood to face the newcomers, wincing as he remembered how long it had been since he last took some Vicodin. "And yes I am"

A man and a woman stood before him. The woman, who had addressed him before spoke again.

"I'm Detective Jenny Morris, and this is my partner, Detective Rob Leonard," she indicated the tall man beside her. "We'd like to ask you a few questions. You were the one who found Ms Cameron?" House nodded. "_Dr_ Cameron," he corrected again. "And yes I did."

"Okay, did you happen to see anyone leaving the apartment? Or someone in, or around the building maybe?" Detective Morris asked. House had asked himself the same thing a thousand times. "Nope, no one."

" Did you notice anything strange or out of place in her apartment? Any signs of a struggle or fight? Furniture knocked over or broken?" House was already becoming impatient with this woman, but he was too tired and stressed to say anything. He wanted it over as soon as possible. He remembered the open door, and the eerie darkness. "Yeah, the door was open and there were no lights on. And for that reason, I didn't notice anything wrong with the furniture. I'd never been in her apartment before anyway."

Detective Morris scribbled down some notes. "Do you know of any people who would want to hurt her? Enemies, ex-partners maybe?" A faint smile flitted across House's lips. The thought of some one hating or wanting to hurt Cameron was almost funny. "No." he stated simply.

" Alright then. What state was Ms Cameron in when you found her?" House was definitely becoming impatient with this woman. "_Dr_ Cameron," he said, putting even more emphasis on the 'Dr' part. "She was…"

_Lying on the operating table, pale and cold… so much blood… pulse flickering…. And the blood… blue grey eyes staring into his own…_

"Dr House? Are you okay?" Detective Morris was giving him a concerned look. Detective Leonard eyed him wearily.

House regained his senses. "Yeah, just a very long day, that's all. Dr Cameron was lying against the kitchen cupboard when I found her. She was unconscious, and had lost a lot of blood." He remembered the glint of steel in the moonlight "there was a, a knife a couple of feet away from her." Detective Morris nodded. "We know, there is a small amount of blood on it, but not nearly enough to have been the weapon that stabbed Dr Cameron. It should help us a great deal with the case."

"What exactly is the case?" House asked, more than a hint of impatience in his voice now. He was always the one asking questions – being held out of the loop wasn't a feeling he was accustomed to.

"We think it was a robbery gone wrong," Detective Morris answered simply. House thought for a second. "So then, the knife – she probably used it in self-defence?" The female detective nodded. "Which is why we hope that the DNA on the blade can help us identify the suspect." To House, knowing that Cameron had defended herself made a big difference. So our sweet, gentle little doctor is a fighter, he thought to himself. He felt the glimmer of hope brighten.

The silent Detective Leonard finally spoke up. House jumped, having forgot he was there. "No jewellery was taken from the victim, does she usually wear any? A bracelet, or necklace maybe?" House gave the man a cold stare. "Yes, _Dr Cameron_ has a particular Guatemalan necklace that she favours. You think it was stolen?" 'The victim' has a name, he thought irritably. "Its possible" Detective Leonard replied.

The two detectives covered some other minor details before leaving. House was glad to be alone again. If he couldn't be there with Cameron, he would rather be alone wallowing in his misery until he could.

A little while later, the doors opened and a surgeon walked out. Being a doctor, House knew the expression on the man's face right away.

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_oh, the suspense is killing me! hehe, im so mean._


	5. Goodbye

**thanks for your reviews everyone. sorry the chapters are so short, but when i think about it, the first chapter was just really long (i only meant for it to be a one shot).**

**DISCLAIMER: i dont own any of them, but detectives morris and leonard will be popping up again. dont sue me. THEYRE MINE.**

**SPOILERS: none**

**NOTE: dunno nothing about hospitals, blaa-blaa like ive said before. and about the fic - the italics are from cameron's POV.**

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_Through the impenetrable black darkness Cameron heard the soft thump of a cane. _

"Could you get doctors Chase and Foreman from Diagnostics for me?"

_It was House, he was here, so close, yet so far. A creak and a rattle as he sat down and popped a Vicodin. Don't leave me._

"Stay strong Cameron, its not over yet. I'm not going anywhere."

_Why was her apartment door open? A sound from the bedroom, a shove into the kitchen. Help, please help. A knife waiting to be washed, wrenched out of her hand as it caught in a leather jacket. Visions of darkness. White pain blasting her senses. The darkness swallowed her whole. The thump of a cane, as she was pulled away from consciousness. Please, don't let me go._

"I'm right here with you."

_Don't leave…_

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Footsteps sounded outside, and the door slid open gently.

"Cameron! Oh my God, what happened?" Chase exclaimed before hurrying over to her bedside, Foreman in tow.

"That's a one-way ticket to Hell, that is." House tried to make light of the serious situation, but his heart wasn't in it. How could he insult Chase while Cameron lay nearby, looking as if Death itself was standing over her? He scolded himself.

Foreman gave House a cold stare that would make Cuddy proud. "Really, House, what happened?"

"The police think it was a robbery gone wrong." The young doctors swore under their breaths, scowling.

"H-how bad is it?" Chase's face still held the shell-shocked expression he came in with.

House sighed, and relayed what the surgeon had told him. He tried to convince himself that she was just another patient, but her face found its way into his thoughts. "She was stabbed three times in the abdomen, one wound punctured the small intestine, one nicked an artery, and the other wasn't deep enough to cause serious harm. However, she still lost a dangerous amount of blood – it was touch-and-go in the surgery for a while, but as you can see, she pulled through." Foreman couldn't help but notice the relief shining through with House's last words.

"But, she's still at risk of an infection from the punctured intestine, right?" he asked, hating to kill his boss' moment.

House nodded. He didn't really want to think about it.

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Foreman and Chase had left to tackle the clinic, promising to check up on Cameron a little later. House was content with sitting by her side.

She was so pale, and her eyes were heavily shadowed. Her once lustrous hair fell dark and limp around her face, and she seemed to fade into the pillows. House was afraid that she'd disappear if he looked away. So he stayed with his eyes locked onto her, allowing himself to realise how close he'd come to losing her.

_You're still here, don't leave…I'm so alone._

"Hold on, Cameron, you've been so strong, keep it up."

_I thought I lost you…_

"I thought I'd lost you, and I was so scared" if House had realised he was talking to a comatose patient he would have been incredibly annoyed, but this was Cameron. It was different. With Cameron it was always different. He allowed himself to open up.

"I watched them revive you in the ambulance, and I had never been more scared of anything in my entire life. I-I've already lost you once, and it felt as though a part of me was ripped away. I won't go through that again."

_You never lost me… you'll never lose me…_

House's head snapped up as her bedside monitor went haywire.

"NURSE!" he roared.

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_Cameron felt herself dissolve. A soft white light penetrated the darkness, pulling her toward it. She could feel its warmth touching her soul. And her husband…holding his arms out to her. How she missed him…how she longed to feel his embrace…_

"DON'T LET HER GO!"

_Cameron stopped, her eyes locked on her husband's smiling gaze. "No" she whispered. The force kept pulling, but she resisted. "I love you… I'm sorry" if she had tears she would have cried, sobbing hysterically for all the time she had lost with her late husband. She would have screamed with the agony of passing up an eternity with her first love. But she would always have him. She would always love him, deep in her heart. "Goodbye" And she focused on House's voice, drawing herself back to the insufferable darkness where she could be near him._

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_A/N. maybe not my most well-written chapter... and yeah, yeah, i had to include the whole white light cliche. and seeing as ive never been in a coma and dont know any one who has, i just figured it would be a little more original if she is trapped in her own mind, or darknessor something, but can hear people talking around her. well actually i got that from an episode of 'smallville'. so please review! reviews get the creative juices flowing! im still trying to sort out exactly whats going to happen, but the next chapter should be up soon...ish._


	6. Lifeline

**thanks for your reviews, honestly, you have no idea how much they help :). and thanks also to the numerous websites that helped me find causes for heart attacks, and websites about anaemia. at least now i can say that i know SOMETHING about what i've written.**

**DISCLAIMER: (throws hands up) no! dont sue! theyre not mine, and i dont want credit for them!**

**WARNINGS/SPOILERS: none.**

**yeah, im kinda unsure about where im taking this. ive got the plot figured out and everything, i just dont know how im going to approach it. ive got the next chapter planned out though - it should be up soon. bye for now!**

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"Don't you ever… _ever_ do that again." House whispered to Cameron's unconscious form. 

Her body had been working too hard. Just getting oxygen to her brain had been a struggle for her heart. Severe anaemia, caused by severe blood loss. There weren't enough red blood cells to carry oxygen to her body, and basically, this had her working overtime to make up for it. Why they didn't have her on a respirator before, he would never understand. Sure she had been breathing on her own, but it was obvious how difficult it was. Wasn't it? In any case, it took a brush with death for them to get off their asses and do something. Kinda like him.

"Wow… you look like crap." Cuddy walked in, closing the door behind her.

"Love you too, _sweetheart_" House retorted. But it was true. He could feel it. He hadn't slept in almost two days, and he'd run out of Vicodin. The stress was really getting to him. He had taken his last pill an hour ago (before Cameron crashed) but he was beginning to feel his leg already.

"Why don't you go home and get some rest? Doctors Foreman and Chase can keep an eye on her. When they're not making up for lost time in the clinic, that is."

House rolled his eyes, expecting a snide comment to follow. When none came, he looked up. Cuddy's face showed genuine concern. He turned back to Cameron, who was still deathly pale, looking as if she was teetering on the fine line between life and death. That tube shoved down her throat didn't help, either. No way was he leaving.

"No." he said defiantly. Cuddy groaned in frustration – a noise House had become quite accustomed to.

"House, you need sleep. Go home. _I_ will keep an eye on Dr Cameron."

House pulled himself out of the chair he had been living in. "What I _need_, is some more drugs and a good coffee." He limped to the door.

"And a shower." Cuddy couldn't resist adding as he passed her.

"…Nice." House growled, somewhat impressed. He left, glancing once more at Cameron's still form. Cuddy made herself comfortable inthe chair, and inspected the young doctor's chart, her face grim. House sighed and headed towards Oncology.

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_Cameron felt him leave, and a sense of panic overwhelmed her. No, don't leave me. As childish, insecure and utterly damaged as he was, she still felt safe when she was near him. There was a strength emanating from him that no one could match. She clung to him like a lifeline. That's what he was to her – a lifeline._

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Cameron's 'lifeline' was now approaching Dr James Wilson's office. He pulled the door open, strode (or did his best 'striding' impression) in and dropped himself in one of the chairs facing Wilson's desk.

"Good morning House, sure, you can come in. Why don't you make yourself comfortable?" Wilsonoffered sarcastically.

House ignored his friend's comment.

Wilson, a little taken aback by the diagnostician's lack of response, put down his pen and looked up at him, his voice kindly. "How's Dr Cameron doing? I'm sorry I haven't been able to visit her yet."

House rubbed his eyes and, while blinking to refocus them, replied, "She crashed earlier. The anaemia caused a heart attack."

"But she's stable now?"

"Yeah, no thanks to me. The monitor went off, and I froze. I called for help, but then I just watched while they revived her."

"House," Wilson's tone was stern, and his deep brown eyes were locked on his friend's intense blue ones. "Its better that you stayed back. You know that personal attachments make you all the more vulnerable and open to mistakes."

House opened his mouth to object, but the oncologist interrupted before he could get a word in.

"Yes, you heard me. Personal attachments."

House was now feeling very exposed. Am I in my underwear? He wondered. But seriously, how much did Wilson know? Or was he still going on about that joke he made about putting the moves on Cameron? Surely that hadn't completely given House away.

Wilson was now staring intently at House, noting his somewhat trapped expression.

"She's your employee, House. I'm sure you'd feel the same if it were Foreman or Chase."

House's head snapped up in shock and relief. He recovered quickly. "Oh yeah. Definitely. Maybe not Chase…" He said dismissively.

But it was too late. Even without that extremely suspicious reaction Wilson knew there was something going on.

"What's gotten into you? You're not… yourself. Normally I wouldn't complain, but given the circumstances…" Wilson trailed off, still watching him.

House debated whether to tell his best friend about the dream or not. He chose not. "Well, considering that I found Dr Cameron lying in a pool of blood, nearly stabbed to death on her kitchen floor, watched her crash three times, haven't slept in two days, run out of Vicodin and stink, it could be anything. Just one of those days, I guess." He said, resorting to sarcasm and a mock shrug – always a safe bet.

Unfortunately Wilson saw right through it. But instead of drilling House further, he decided to let it slide…for now. _When hunting a rabbit you don't stick your head down its hole and yell for it to come out, you wait until its good and ready. Then you shoot it in the head_. He thought to himself with an inward smirk.

"Well then… lets get you some Vicodin."

-----------------------------------

A few Vicodin, a change of clothes and a vile coffee later, House was back in Cameron's room, dozing off in what he now affectionately referred to as 'his' chair. His head had just fallen back and hit the back of the chair when Cuddy came in, folded her arms and tapped her foot impatiently on the tiled floor.

"Elma Fudd! What brings you here?" House exclaimed, his eyes still closed.

Cuddy fought back a smile. "Come on House, now you're being ridiculous. Dr Cameron isn't going anywhere. She's stable for now, but if anything happens, you will be the first to know"

House opened his eyes and looked at the hospital administrator sleepily. "What? You gonna force me to go home?"

"No, the clinic." Cuddy grinned as House's eyes widened. "Well, I figured if you won't go home, then you can make yourself useful here. Foreman and Chase have their own hours to do, on top of other duties. They can't juggle yours too. Give me a couple of hours, at least."

House was staring vacantly at the foot of Cameron's bed. _That's what you said yesterday. If I hadn't been in the clinic, this wouldn't have happened to Cameron. _But even House knew that was going a little overboard. He still couldn't help thinking it.

"…House?" Cuddy was now staring at him as if he was growing an extra ear.

He snapped out of it, and sighed. "Sure". Truth be told, he was actually a little grateful for something to distract him. Even clinic duty. He still felt bad for leaving Cameron's side. Perhaps she needed him?

Nevertheless, he followed Cuddy down to the clinic.

* * *

_Next chapter... a big lead on cameron's case... house just doesnt realise it. i was gonna squeeze it in here, but it would fit better in the next chapter. that, and the next chapter would only be like 500 words long if i put that extra bit in here. anyways, review! it really, really helps me. cheers :)_


	7. Clicking Into Place

**DISCLAIMER: i don't own House, Cameron, Wilson, Chase, Foreman, Cuddy, PPTH, the Clinic, or anything associated with them. however, i do own the detectives and the suspect.**

**so here it is, the chapter you've all been waiting for! sorry it may disappoint you, but i kind of struggled with it. there was no inspiration or anything, i just wanted it over with. boo-hoo, i'm losing my touch! waaaah! i'm going to make sure i finish it the way i want, even if it means juggling it with school... well, on with it.**

* * *

The lack of sleep finally caught up with House down in the clinic. He felt it as soon as he was assigned his first patient. So for the next two hours or so he diagnosed and prescribed treatment for all the runny noses and infections in an almost mechanical manner. 

"A runny nose" _It's a cold._

"An infected wound"_ Swab it._

"A sore throat." _Tonsillitis. Antibiotics._

"A very sore throat" _Infection of the trachea. Antibiotics._

"Numbness in the toes." _Shoes are two sizes too small._

"Toothache". _Why are you here?_

"Constant headaches." _Hair is tied too tight._

House had had enough. He needed some sleep or he was going to lose it... well, the rest of it.He stormed out of the clinic into Cuddy, who was at the front desk talking to a nurse.

"How's Cameron?" He demanded.

"Same as she was two hours a-"

"I'm going home, bye." House interrupted Cuddy, and limped out to the car park. It was when he was standing where his car should have been that he realised he had ridden to the hospital in the ambulance. _Dammit._

He called for a cab, and fell into bed without even changing clothes. He managed to kick his shoes off, and was asleep when the second one hit the floor.

Although he trusted that Cuddy or one of the other doctors would page him if anything happened to Cameron, he still slept uneasily. But a full night's uneasy sleep was infinitely better than no sleep in any case. He got up, showered, and drove back to the hospital.

-----------------------------------

"No change in the brain or respiratory patterns. She's stable for now, but a lot could still happen." One of the doctors who had been monitoring Cameron reported to House when he arrived back in her room. He said nothing, but headed over to his chair by her bed.

His butt had just touched the seat when the door slid open and the two detectives entered. Oh great, House groaned to himself. Just what I need.

"Dr House?" Luckily for her, Detective Morris remembered how to address him.

"Yeah." House answered flatly.

"We have a lead on Dr Cameron's case." She had also remembered how to address him about Cameron. Smart woman.

"Oh?" She had his full attention now, though he tried not to show it.

"Well, from the angle and depth of the wounds, we can safely say that she was attacked by someone around the same height or a little shorter than her, probably a minor. So I'm going to ask you again – did you see anyone suspicious hanging around outside her apartment building?" She watched him, waiting for an answer.

House tried and tried, but he couldn't remember seeing anyone outside her building. "No, I didn't." he replied after a minute of hard thinking. Detective Morris looked a tad disappointed, but nevertheless she continued to scribble in her notepad. Detective Leonard spoke up, again making House jump.

"We found traces of leather on the knife blade, did you see any discarded clothes?" he asked.

"Who would throw away an authentic leather jacket?" House asked, incredulous. "Regardless of a few holes, you don't just-" he stopped. Something in his mind clicked.

A leather jacket… An infected wound…the angle suggested a minor… 

House had pulled himself from the chair and was out the door before the detectives had time to blink.

-----------------------------------

_Cameron felt him there, and immediately relaxed. You're back…_

"They caught him. The bastard that did this to you. He came in this morning with an infected cut on his arm, and I swabbed it and sent it down to the lab." House was by her bed, talking to her. He didn't care that he was talking to a comatose patient; all he wanted was her to wake up now that everything was sorted out. "Then Dumb and Dumber came back this morning and told me that the attacker was a kid, and that there was leather on the knife that you jabbed him with, and it all clicked into place. It was quite beautiful, really." He added dreamily.

"I went to the lab, and got the cops to compare the DNA from your knife with the DNA from my swab, and… dun, dun, dun… it was a match! But you already knew that."

_Cameron listened to him rattle on, her subconscious form smiling. _

"So… you can wake up now." House said as if she was pretending.

_If only you knew how much I want to… Cameron had tried, but she didn't feel strong enough. And the pain… it was too much to bear. Maybe if she slept a little longer it would become easier._

* * *

_yeah, its a bit short... well, its very short. like i said, i had a bit of trouble. so.. review, but be nice. and honest. but if its so bad you cant be honest AND nice, then just be honest and mean. dont worry - i wont cry. bye for now. :)_


	8. Lost

**DISCLAIMER: i dont own them. i use them.**

**here is what i thought would be the last chapter. but hey, i might just leave it here. anyway, i hope you like it. i actually felt like writing this one.**

* * *

They tried to get things back to normal. Well, as normal as things could get while one of your colleagues was lying in a coma downstairs.

Cameron still hadn't improved, and was considered to be in a deep coma, with a very low responsive score. Although patients with low scores had been known to recover fully in the past, Cameron's doctor (an idiot, in House's opinion) told them not to get their hopes up. In typical cases some kind of response or improvement was usually seen after a month. It had been two.

But House refused to believe that she may never wake up, or that she may lose all brain function, and be labelled 'brain dead'. He didn't like labels. So he tried to visit her everyday, when Cuddy wasn't screaming for him, and they had no cases. There were never any cases anymore. They had one the previous week, but it turned out to be nothing. Nothing interesting, anyway.

He limped into her room, greeted by the steady beep of the monitor. Nothing else. She didn't call his name, she didn't sit up and smile at him, and she didn't even stir. She just lay there. He sat in his chair, and heaved a deep sigh, never taking his eyes off her still form.

"Still asleep, huh? I never really pegged you for the lazy type" Nope. Nothing.

"Foreman and Chase are getting married. Chase wants you to be his maid of honour." Still no response, not even a flicker.

"Cuddy is having my baby" Cameron lay as still as ever. When trying to shock her with lies failed, he tried the truth.

"I … like you." He said hesitantly. Immediately he regretted admitting it, but there was no point. She didn't wake up. House sat there in silence for a few more minutes before getting up to leave.

------------------------------------

"Foreman and Chase are getting married. Chase wants you to be his maid of honour," _Cameron almost giggled at the idea. Chase would make a beautiful bride, she smirked_.

"Cuddy is having my baby," _She rolled her eyes. Typical. _

"I… like you". _Cameron froze. This was the truth; she could hear it in his voice. He sounded reluctant to say it, which means it must be true. He had never hesitated at the (silly) idea of the two of them together. Like the time she mentioned sex as a cause for a patient's problems. His response was sarcastic and nonchalant. His response was House-like._

"Well, it might get complicated. We work together. I am older, certainly, but maybe you like that." _Were his exact words. She had rolled her eyes and dismissed his comment. _

_But this… this was not House-like. This was as far away from House-like as was humanely possible. House didn't have feelings for other people. He liked his Vicodin, he liked his soaps, and he liked his piano. He might like Wilson a little bit, but not in the same context. What the hell happened while she was sleeping?_

_Hmm, sleep. She was sleeping more and more. Well duh, she was in a coma. She knew that much. She was in a constant sleep-like state. But she was drifting away from awareness more. And each time she did it became harder to return._

------------------------------------

"House!" An all-too-familiar voice yelled down the hallway.

"Dear God!" Without hesitating House limped as fast as he could to the nearest restrooms, and pushed the door to the boy's bathroom open.

Cuddy rounded the corner, and watched as the door to the boy's bathroom swung closed. "I've got you now", she growled as she stalked towards it and flung it open.

Next door in the girl's bathroom House heaved a deep sigh of relief. One of the nurses eyed him suspiciously while washing her hands.

"Cuddy." He told her innocently. The nurse nodded in understanding. Everyone knew about House and Cuddy. She grinned. House tried to decipher the expression on her face, before she turned and left. As the door was swinging shut, he heard her triumphant voice echo off the tiles.

"He's in there!"

House was stunned, but also impressed. He should have known after all these years of giving the nurses crap how they would act in a situation like this. If you wanted to get to House, you used Cuddy. But although he was very impressed with the nurse's guts, he swore that he would get his revenge later. For her it was probably still worth it.

The doorflew open at a frightening speed, revealing a fuming Cuddy. Little strands of frizzy hair stuck out around her very red face, and her eyes were fixed coldly on House, staring so hard she almost looked cross-eyed.

"Tut-tut, Dr Cuddy, how many times have I told you not to stick things in the toaster?" House exclaimed, shaking his head. It was all he could do to keep from laughing as a nerve in Cuddy's left eye twitched. She finally found her voice. When she spoke her tone was surprisingly calm.

"There you are, Dr House. I have been looking everywhere for you. Dr House, why aren't you in the clinic?" She asked, a little too politely. House shrugged nonchalantly.

"I dunno. Don't feel like it."

He could almost hear the 'pop' as Cuddy lost it and lunged for him.

"YOU DON'T _FEEL_ LIKE IT?" She screamed, stopping mere inches from him. A young nurse walked in, took one look at the scene in front of her, and walked back out again.

Cuddy continued. "House! You're completely neglecting your duties! You're never in the clinic, you rarely even glance at a patient, let alone take their case and you're more miserable and antagonistic than ever!" She sighed, and went on. She wasn't yelling anymore, but her tone was deadly serious.

"And doctors Foreman and Chase's jobs are suffering. Just because you've lost one doctor doesn't mean you neglect the other two."

House raised his eyebrows. "Just because I've _lost_ a doctor?" he asked her, incredulous. Cameron wasn't lost – she was fifty feet away.

Cuddy spoke, but with more sympathy this time. "Yes, House. You may not want to believe it, but you know just as well as anyone how slim the chances are of Dr Cameron waking up. Even slimmer are her chances of waking up without permanent damage."

House did know of Cameron's chances. Cuddy was right – he just didn't want to believe it. In his mind she was going to wake up and be back to work in time for everything to return to normal.

"She wasn't lacking huge amounts of oxygen, but she was lacking small amounts over a long enough period of time. There may already be damage." Cuddy said. House knew that already. The bleed wasn't enough to kill her, but it did its best.

Cuddy watched him, waiting for him to say something. When he didn't, she turned to leave the bathroom, stopping at the door.

"When I check in half an hour's time, I want to find you in the clinic, doing your job." She demanded coolly.

House followed her out, but instead of heading down to the clinic he returned to Cameron's room. She was the same as when he left her.

"You better wake up soon, Dr Cameron… Allison." He liked her name. "Allison, Allison, Allison…" He rolled it around on his tongue, loving how it sounded from his lips.

------------------------------------

"You better wake up soon…" _Cameron tried to pull herself closer to him, but she was too weary. I'll rest a little longer._

"Allison, Allison, Allison…" _he was calling her back. No, she resisted. It hurt to go back. I'll rest a little longer, and then it will be easier. She felt herself slipping away from all awareness. _

* * *

_oops, looks like i'll have to write another chapter... or will i? im just playing with ya. i will write another one, but the ending may not be what you expect. please review, it really, really helps._


	9. Time

**Well, here it is. The final chapter. I just want to say - screw the disclaimer, this is about my fic (lol). And all these wonderful people I would like to thank, for their reviews and dedication to the story. Your comments made me all happy, and inspired me to keep going. Thank you: J. Daisy, brynnamorgan, house obsessed, Belmont-Bellamy, Blackrose Kitsune, stwbrryCSI, theshowpopper, Audacia, jenloveshouse, colonelheather, HouseLuvr, KayleighBough, Ellie 5192 and everyone else who so much as READ the story. **

**the ending may surprise you, but not in a big way, like she dies or house falls down the stairs and dies or something. even though it DOES sound like something i would do.**

**well i won't hold you back any longer. read on, and i hope you like it :)**

* * *

Not many people had considered it over the past few weeks, but Dr House actually wanted to keep his job. So after Cuddy's little hissy fit in the girl's bathroom he started taking cases again. However, if Cuddy thought he was going to start doing clinic duty of his own free will, she had more problems than he did. 

But the second case he took really hit him hard. The first one was simply a tiny brain tumour that a neurologist had missed (luckily for Foreman it wasn't him), but the second was a young woman who had collapsed at work, and fallen into a coma. She crashed, and the doctors were pronouncing her brain-dead. All this had happened in less than a day.

House stood in the patient's room. Chase and Foreman had made the call, and as much as House wanted them to be wrong, the doctor in him knew she was unresponsive. She had no brain function, or reactions to the stimuli. He watched her heart beat steadily on the monitor. Her body was being kept alive through wires and machines, but she was dead. The lights were on, but nobody was home.

He had seen many brain-dead patients in his career, but none had affected him quite like this. But then, Cameron wasn't in a coma then. What if she became unresponsive? He knew it could happen. What if her brain just gave out? She had suffered some mild head trauma in the attack, what if her brain decided to bleed?

He had to stop thinking this way. He didn't like feeling so exposed. But he thought of the patient in front of him. She was so young, in her mid-twenties. She was at the beginning of a promising career. She was engaged, and soon to be married. But she wasn't going to walk the aisle in a stunning bridal dress. She wasn't going to fulfil all her dreams of becoming a veterinarian. She wasn't going to grow old, or watch her children grow old. He sighed and left the room. Sometimes life was just too cruel.

--------------------------------

He tried to visit Cameron as much as possible over the next few weeks, but his workload increased with the onset of the summer holidays. When he was finished for the day he would often stop by her room, and check up on her. Her actual doctors weren't good enough.

One evening he was opening the door when he saw her sit up in bed. His heart skipped a beat. No, scratch that – his heart skipped three beats. But when he looked again, it was only the shadows playing tricks with his eyes. He blinked, and left.

--------------------------------

They had hit a dry spell in the flood of patients that were usually occupying the clinic, so House found himself sitting in his office. General Hospital wasn't on, his yo-yo was broken, and his Game Boy had run out of batteries. Even throwing his unnaturally large tennis ball at the wall had lost all meaning. He contemplated calling Chase in so he could play target practice, but decided against it. The last thing he wanted was to listen to Chase complaining. And he had pushed Foreman to his limits, so he would gain nothing but pain from tormenting him. Annoying Cameron was always the most fun. She had the cutest reactions. Then he decided he would do the next best thing, and visit her.

Down in her room, House plonked himself down on his chair. He watched her chest rise and fall in an almost hypnotic rhythm. Things were so different without her. He thought back to what he told her when she first fell into the coma.

"_I watched them revive you in the ambulance, and I had never been more scared of anything in my entire life. I-I've already lost you once, and it felt as though a part of me was ripped away. I won't go through that again."_

Had he meant it? It certainly didn't sound like something he would normally say. To be honest, he hadn't intended on saying it at all. It just kind of slipped out. In fact, he hadn't intended on saying anything. Why did he change around her? What was it about this woman that made him question everything?

It wasn't only the dream, either. That just magnified it. Even before that she made him question himself. She was so open with her feelings for him. But he quickly regained control, and dismissed what she felt. Then he worked on convincing himself that he didn't like her. He had walled himself off since Stacy, determined to live the rest of his life alone. Relationships only brought more pain.

He wanted to have something with Cameron. He knew she really did like him, and it wasn't only pity or neediness. He desperately wanted to take a chance and see how things went. She was picking at the wall, slowly scraping away all the mortar, patiently waiting for that moment when the bricks gave way and let her in.

He knew how much pain he would bring her. She had already been broken once, but, unlike him, she allowed herself to heal. She had to know what she was trying to get herself into when she fell for him. You play with fire, and you get burned.

He told her that he liked her. Did he mean it? Of course he did. He may say things without thinking sometimes, but they always came from somewhere. He was still afraid. Afraid of more pain, for him and for her. Any relationship of theirs was doomed to fail. Partly because they work together, partly because he was old enough to be her father, but also because he was so utterly, utterly damaged. He needed to adjust, to heal. In time he knew he would be ready to take things between them further (further from what? He wondered), but when that time came, would she still be there? He sighed. His leg had slowed him down in more ways than one.

He sat in silence, and swore that one day he would make her happy. Just not today.

--------------------------------

"That little shit that attacked you has been locked up." House told Cameron's unconscious form. "And they retrieved everything he stole from you, including that prized necklace. You might want to replace the chain, though. It must have broken when he took it from you." He said quietly, and without expression. It had now been three months.

Foreman and Chase entered, chatting to each other – they too liked to pop by on their way out every day or so. House chose this moment to leave, gently patting Cameron's leg as he passed.

She flinched.

House felt time grind to a halt, as he stood stock-still, unable to take his eyes from her face. Slowly, ever so slowly, she opened her eyes.

Foreman and Chase stopped mid-sentence, their jaws dragging on the floor. They rushed to her side to flash light in her eyes and perform other various tests, while House stood at the foot of her bed, in a state of euphoria like none he had ever experienced before.

--------------------------------

She was fine. No lasting damage. She needed a little physiotherapy to get used to walking and moving around again, and a couple of sessions with a therapist, but other than that she made a full recovery. On her last night in the hospital, House stopped by her room while she was packing her things.

"So… you're being discharged?" he asked, standing in the corner uncomfortably. Something about him was different, but she couldn't place it. "Yeah." She replied, before gathering up all her 'get well' cards and stacking them in a pile. He hadn't had much of a chance to talk to her (while she was conscious) because of his workload, and all her visitors, check-ups and physio.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, still looking awkward.

Cameron nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. Did you miss me?" she asked playfully.

She saw a spark of the old House. "Of course. Foreman makes a vile coffee, and Chase doesn't even know how to make one of those." He said dismissively.

Like Wilson, Cameron could see straight through him. _So he did miss me_, she realised.

Suddenly visions of darkness enveloped her. She would never forget the incredible loneliness that resided there.

But he had been beside her. It was House beside here all those times, talking to her or even stroking her hand. His voice echoed through her memory.

"…_I thought I'd lost you"_

"… _I was so scared"_

"…_Allison"_

" _I…like you"_

"…_Allison"_

She smiled warmly at him. He smiled back, and then let his face fall.

"So… I guess I won't be seeing you again." He said sadly. Cameron was puzzled for a second, before she remembered that she had quit a week before the attack.

She stared into his piercing blue eyes with her softer ones. Even from opposite sides of the room Cameron felt the air ripple, as if an electric current was stretched between them.

She also saw deep within the swirling blue, a need, a desire for her that even he couldn't hide behind a mask of sarcasm and indifference. _Or that puppy-face he's trying to pull_, she noted.

She remembered his words, spoken to her in her times of darkness, when he thought she was oblivious to his presence. But it was his presence that had kept her alive.

Allison Cameron was a smart woman. And being a doctor had taught her a few things about people. She could read some like a book, while others needed a little extra concentration or some rose-tinted spectacles.

She wasn't going to rush things with House. She knew that all he needed was some time. And she was going to be there, however long it may take. She needed him as much as he needed her. She let out an exasperated sigh. "Okay… I'll stay." She said, as if it was the hardest decision of her life. But in reality it was the easiest one she'd ever had to make.

House beamed her a triumphant grin, and limped out the door. _Ha,_ he thought to himself smugly, _told ya I could convince her to come back. That old puppy-dog routine works like a charm. Women, _he scoffed_, shows what they know._

Cameron chuckled gently to herself as she gathered her things. _He probably thinks that puppy-dog face he was pulling convinced me to stay_, she thought with a smirk. _Shows what he knows._

She walked out the door, still a little wobbly on her feet, and down the corridor into the elevator, where House held the door for her. He gave her a small smile, which she returned. Both stood in a comfortable silence as they waited to reach their destination.

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End file.
